(CHORUS)
So who's the man, going for bands
can't touch this, no fly zone, damn
go into airplane mode, won't land
So tell me what's the plan, going for bands
We going for the bag, and we going for bands (×4)


(VERSE)
I'm the last of dying breed
ain't nobody fucking with the violent beast
they beside themselves like a siamese
can't nobody stop it, it my time to eat
I got an appetite for destruction
you get mad and bite but I'm stunting
so much bad advice, you ain't half as nice
I stay out of sight but I'm gunning
everything black and white, and bet I gat my stripes
you can't badger mines, you ain't nothing
I finna get that bag, you need a bag of ice when I jab you right in the stomach
I'm Larry Holmes when he sparred with Ali
bury homes under enemy soil
when I breathe, it fuego like a hot tamale
but I'm cold while the temperature boils
better seen which way it go on lots of Molly,
I'm a soldier, the weapons recoil
when I'm sneezing atchu, don't be talking snotty, be supportive and blessing your boy, oh boy

(CHORUS)
So who's the man, going for bands
can't touch this, no fly zone, damn
go into airplane mode, won't land
So tell me what's the plan, going for bands
We going for the bag, and we going for bands (×4)

(VERSE)
top floor in a Royal Suite at the Four Seasons, looking better with a view
bout to pop off, ain't no loyalty, it's just more demons, tryna get a bit of food
when it's time to eat, it's your time to eat
finna get it when you got it, had me feelin brand new
when it finally all dawned on me
had to bring it when I brought it, sinking like a sand dune
wanna ride with me, we ride til the wheels fall off
funny how the things that set you right can feel so wrong
I know you ain't tryna bite in beast mode, dog
I know you ain't tryna fight for real, oh nah
so calm til it's time to go to war, Socom
so raw, keep it grimy to the core, Don Da
Viola! Got that crack, sour purp, all y'all
talk soft next to half-our work, Bob Ross

(OUTRO)